


Something Nice In The Morning

by Moonlitdark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Ankle Cuffs, Established Relationship, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28648317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlitdark/pseuds/Moonlitdark
Summary: Harry was up to his elbows in a mixture of shoes, ties and other miscellaneous clutter, searching for what he needed.  When he finally excavated a black cloth bag, he sat back on his heels and pulled it open with satisfaction.  “Take your clothes off.”Draco didn’t move.  “Myidea did not involve articles like… whatisthat?”Harry admired the black object in his grasp.  “Well, I might’ve spiced up the idea alittle…”After trying to add a bit of fun in the bedroom, Harry's venture turns into a wee drama of sex, bondage and misunderstandings.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted a long time ago on Livejournal. So if it seems familiar, you've probably read it before. But this was posted back then under three separate titles. Since it's one continuous story, I've renamed it and posted it as a chaptered fic.

“Why do I get the feeling that you might’ve misunderstood my request, Potter?”

Kneeling to rummage in the bottom of his wardrobe, Harry chirped, “It’ll be fun!” He felt sure that Draco just needed the right nudge.

Draco stood above him; arms crossed defensively. “No enjoyment could possibly be derived from this endeavour.”

Harry tutted in exasperation. “Wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” 

“No. It was _not_. I merely made a harmless suggestion which has been drastically altered beyond all reason.”

“But it was still your idea.” Harry was up to his elbows in a mixture of shoes, ties and other miscellaneous clutter, searching for what he needed. When he finally excavated a black cloth bag, he sat back on his heels and pulled it open with satisfaction. “Take your clothes off.” 

Draco didn’t move. “ _My_ idea did not involve articles like… what _is_ that?” 

Harry admired the black object in his grasp. “Well, I might’ve spiced up the idea a _little_ … it’s a butt plug.”

“‘A little’ would imply that some semblance of the original proposition still existed.” Despite his derisive tone, Draco was sporting a look very reminiscent of a squeamish schoolgirl. “And if you believe that you’re coming anywhere near me with that _thing_ , you are very much mistaken.”

Harry set the plug carefully aside to recommence his exploration of the bag, grinning fiendishly. Draco greeted the next item that Harry retrieved with a contemptuous snort.

“What?” Harry asked.

“If you’re planning on introducing handcuffs, you had better be prepared to wear them. Although they do appear a little large for your scrawny wrists.”

Harry had a cuff in either hand and was pulling it to test the chain’s strength. “They’re not handcuffs, they’re ankle cuffs. And they’re not for me. But I’m sure I do have handcuffs somewhere in here.”

“As I am positive that I made perfectly clear at the outset of this dubious relationship, I am _not_ a bottom, Potter.”

“Not usually, but you’ll really like this.” Once he had placed the cuffs beside the previous item, Harry’s hand delved in again.

“I don’t care to find out.”

“How about these?” Harry dangled a thin chain with tiny silver attachments at each end playfully between his fingers.

Draco cringed. “Should I even ask what those are?” 

Harry beamed. “Nipple clamps.”

Eyes narrowing, Draco spat, “If those monstrosities do not _immediately_ find their way back into that receptacle, then I’m going home _right now_!” 

Harry dropped them back into the bag with a sigh. “You could’ve at least given them a try.”

“Absolutely not. And I must remind myself to never again utter any suggestion in your presence.” 

“Oh, stop moaning. Here put this on.” Harry waved a pitifully tiny piece of leather at Draco.

Draco pointedly ignored the proffered item, keeping his arms firmly crossed. “I feel that my reservations in this matter are not being given the proper consideration.” 

Harry stretched the garment in front of Draco’s hips. “Oh, I’m considering them. I just consider that you’re being boring and a coward.” 

“I am _not_! This is ridiculous and depraved and I will not involve myself in any part of it.” 

It was obvious that Harry’s new boyfriend was going to need a lot more encouragement than he had originally hoped. Lowering his arms, he gazed up at Draco and aimed to display smouldering green eyes. He wasn’t quite sure if he’d pulled it off, so Harry whispered in his best seductive tone, “Malfoy…” 

Draco hesitated. Harry knew that a certain region of Draco’s body did appreciate the way Harry drawled out the Malfoy name.

“I just think that…”

“…I could be ramming into your arse, while you beg for more?” Still clutching the leather, Harry rose nimbly to stand directly in front of Draco, his voice purring with lust. Well, sort of. “I could _give_ you more, Malfoy. I could make you scream so loud that you’ll be hoarse for days.”

“I hardly think that sounds of shrieks echoing through the neighbourhood would improve either one of our reputations.”

Harry sidled around him, mindful of the sneer but hopeful, even now. “You’re already hard at the thought of this. Admit it.”

“I shall admit nothing of the sort.”

Draping himself over Draco’s stiff back, Harry nuzzled in to brush their cheeks together, growing more optimistic when he heard Draco's breathing hitch ever so slightly. “Lie down on the bed,” he whispered.

“Perhaps I'm not making myself clear.” Although Draco defiantly stood his ground, Harry could hear the faint hiss of shallow breaths. “I have no intentions whatsoever of playing any role in this little fantasy.”

“Well…” he swayed his hips against Draco’s arse, “if the thought of writhing on your back underneath me in ecstasy doesn’t sound appealing…”

“I… well, I fail to see why you could not achieve that without the use of… _props_.”

Noting that at least Draco’s last statement had not been another outright refusal to consider the idea of bottoming, Harry’s heart leapt. “Props make it more exciting.”

“Just how long have you been harbouring this little perversion, Potter?”

His hands carefully made their way around to Draco’s front. “Didn’t I tell you that life with me would be interesting?”

“I’m not sure that I’d categorise this as _interesting_.” 

One of Harry’s hands slid through the gap in Draco’s robes, easing closer to the bulge he knew was there. “Then how _would_ you categorise it?”

“Appalling.”

“You’ll love it.” As Harry’s hand found its treasure, Draco inhaled sharply. 

Harry chuckled deeply as he fondled Draco's erection through the cloth. “Think how good it’ll feel, _Malfoy_ …” A faint moan emanated from Draco as Harry pushed his hips forward to rut in time to his firm strokes. 

“I…”

Harry reached around with his other hand to dangle the soft leather garment in front of Draco’s face. “I’ll make it worth your while…”

“You’d better, Potter,” Draco growled as he snatched the g-string from Harry’s fingers.

…………

Harry amazed himself sometimes. Not only had he somehow managed to persuade his boyfriend of only two weeks to don leather and handcuffs, he had also succeeded in drawing out the absolutely _perfect_ little submissive that Harry had always suspected lay hidden deep within him. Looking down at his discovery, Harry thought that this version of Draco Malfoy was a thing of beauty. 

Draco hadn't been required to wear the g-string for very long since Harry had ripped it from his body before beginning his utterly merciless endeavours. He had tortured his captive with barely there touches and strokes and little teasing licks of pleasure until Draco moaned, squirmed, panted and _begged_ for anything more that Harry might deem to offer him. But just enough flash of defiance remained in the grey eyes to remind Harry of the precariousness of his new-found position of power.

Given his usually assertive lover’s present predicament, Harry was primed to take full advantage. He finally had this gorgeous man sprawled on his back in the centre of his four-poster bed, wrists handcuffed to two bedposts, long, slender legs spread invitingly by ankle restraints chained high on the other posts and Draco's enticing opening had been lovingly lubricated and prepared.

Draco’s entire body shuddered with pleasure as Harry breached him, and his ensuing enthusiasm spurred Harry on until _both_ of them screamed.

Harry stretched out on the mattress afterwards, a smile of absolute satisfaction spread across his face. 

“Are you planning on uncuffing me anytime soon, Potter?” 

“In a bit.”

“Make it quick.” Draco tried unsuccessfully to shift his position. “Before my limbs permanently cramp up in this arrangement. And maybe now you could enlighten me as to exactly how my innocent suggestion that we should do something nice this morning turned into that depraved little extravaganza?”

Giggling, Harry replied, “I wanted to see if you’d actually do it.” 

“And the complete horror of my initial reaction didn’t dissuade you in the least?” 

“You _did_ really get into it after all that moaning.” 

A brief, almost coy smile curled just at the edges of Draco’s mouth before he regained his trademark sneer. “Maybe the experience wasn’t _quite_ as bad as I’d originally imagined, but that does _not_ mean that any further bottoming on my part will be in our immediate future.”

Harry slithered up Draco’s sweat-gleaming body, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Oh, we’re _so_ doing that again. There’s nothing like a bit of bondage to brighten up a dull morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

Still basking in his recent success, Harry decided to take another chance. Since Harry had never actually been on the receiving end of his own bondage fantasies, he was curious to see just how far Draco could be convinced to take _that_ role. So, in the interest of experimentation and sexual gratification, Harry had left a little breadcrumb and now patiently waited to see what would happen.

The front door slammed with such force that Harry felt the building shudder. Smiling broadly in anticipation, he stood and turned to face the source of the noise. Heavy footsteps thudded around the house and an occasional clatter of items being roughly handled echoed from the hallway for a few minutes before the door to the living room was wrenched open.

Draco stood in the entrance, his normally pale features reddened with rage, but it was the item held in his right hand that really perked Harry’s attention.

“Do you… have _any_ concept of just how embarrassing it is to open your briefcase in the middle of an important meeting and display bondage restraints to the whole room?” Draco spat.

“Yes, I think so…” Harry answered with as much innocent concern as he could muster.

“No, I don’t think you can _possibly_ imagine the _humiliation_ that I endured!”

“Maybe you can help me with that.”

“You are the most irresponsible, inconsiderate - what?” Draco stopped mid-rant to frown at Harry. 

“Don’t be so stunned, Draco. Did you really think that I put those in your briefcase just to embarrass you?” Flinching slightly at the glare the question produced, Harry boldly continued. “Well, okay that wasn’t the _only_ reason. It might’ve been a slight response to the time you planted a tube of lube in the box of files that I gave to my assistant. But I thought that you might like to… try it out.” 

“Try _what_ out?”

“Topping again.” 

“I never _ceased_ topping, Potter.” 

Although Harry couldn’t recall a single incident of Draco being in the topmost position since the introduction of bondage into their relationship a month ago, he considered it wiser not to actually mention that fact.

Strangely reluctant to simply blurt out his desire, Harry tried again.

“I thought that we could try it differently, you know, just this once. Look, I’m trying to give you a really _un_ subtle hint here!”

Draco threw him an extremely suspicious sneer. “So… you don’t expect me to wear leather garments and manacles yet again?” 

“No, I thought I might do that. If you’d like me to, anyway.”

The sneer deepened. “I understood that your perverted little fantasies all involved forcing me to adopt a submissive position?”

“I would hardly call all the shagging that’s happened in the last few weeks _forced_!” Harry barked indignantly. “Do you want to take advantage of this situation or should I just presume that you’ll continue to bottom?”

Casually sauntering over to stand before him, Draco slowly drew his gaze up and down the length of Harry’s body. Just as Harry was about to offer some further form of encouragement, Draco’s hand shot out to grasp his left wrist and Draco swept out of the room, dragging Harry along behind him.

Harry tried to at least _look_ like he was struggling as he was roughly pulled along the hallway. The hold on his wrist was painfully strong, but he didn’t feel any urge to break free.

“You like to play games?” Draco growled as he strode. “Now I’m about to show you exactly what _games_ your little prank will result in.”

Draco stopped so abruptly that Harry almost ran into him. Attempting to curb the wide smile which threatened to spread over his face, Harry stumbled as he was roughly thrown forward into the bedroom. Draco followed, entering the room gracefully to stand a few feet away.

“Undress.” The commanding tone send shivers straight down to Harry’s cock.

Eager to comply, Harry hastily peeled the clothes from his body, tossing them down in random piles until he stood naked in the centre of the room, panting with excitement. Draco however, did not move except for the hand gently swinging enticing metal by his side.

“Pick them up.”

Harry’s head shot down to the mess he had created and back up to meet impassive eyes. “What? But I -”

“If I have to ask again…” 

Deciding that stubbornly refusing to tidy up after himself probably wouldn’t help proceedings along, Harry crouched to scoop the clothes up into a bundle in his arms.

“I feel that it would be more appropriate if the clothing I so carefully picked out for you was treated with more respect.” A single arched eyebrow indicated further action was needed. Sighing in disappointment of the delay, Harry placed the bundle on the bed before carefully sorting through the items one by painstaking one, folding them neatly and placing them carefully on a nearby chair.

“Lie on the bed.”

Harry climbed up onto the mattress and endeavoured to look a little less desperate to begin than he felt.

Perching on the edge of the bed, Draco appeared to be regarding him thoughtfully. Keen to offer just a little more inspiration, Harry raised a leg to rest his foot on Draco’s lap. 

Giving his ankle a flirtatious twirl, Harry purred, “Put your ankle cuffs here…”

“Don’t speak.” Grey eyes never left his as Draco's hand moved lightly across the soft sheet and up the tingling skin of Harry's leg. Cool metal trailed along his skin and the faint click of the cuff locking around his ankle caused a shudder of anticipated pleasure to shake up his body. When the second cuff entrapped his other ankle, Harry thought there was quite a high possibility that he might come merely at the thought of what could follow.

Projecting absolute confidence and authority, Draco stood and reached to lift the now all too familiar receptacle which had been left in a purposely conspicuous position by the bedstand. 

“Sit up.”

Harry hesitated for a few seconds, revelling in his newest success.

“Now.”

Using trembling arms to raise himself, Harry complied as Draco reached into the bag.

“Good. Now don’t move.”

A strong hand suddenly gripped Harry’s arm from where it propped him up and tugged, almost causing him to fall backwards. Steel again met his skin as his wrist was encased in metal and his other pulled back to join it. He had no time to get used to the sensation of his wrists being bound before a flat palm met his chest to shove him backwards down onto the mattress, where he landed with a soft bounce. Looking up at the stern face above him, Harry writhed in the exhilaration of being restrained. Squirming against the sheet, he tested the strength of his binds.

“Lie still.”

Harry froze, eager to show that he too could be obedient when the moment called for it. Lying in his uncomfortable position, he watched perfect skin revealed as Draco slowly began to undress.

Unclothed and smiling deviously, Draco swung a thin chain between elegant fingers. “If I recall correctly, you seemed particularly anxious to make use of _these_ …”

It wasn’t long before Harry’s face was pressed deep into the mattress as he knelt, and his arms were pulled back painfully as Draco gripped the handcuffs. The rigid steel dug into Harry’s wrists and ankles, and the metal teeth enclosing his nipples bit in further as he was shoved forward when Draco impaled him with a single, smooth thrust. 

Dripping with sweat from pain and lust, Harry grunted as the rhythm soon sped up to a furious pace, his own cock begging for attention which he knew it would not receive until the man above him wanted to do so.

“This is where you belong, on your knees beneath me,” Draco snarled as he relentlessly pounded. 

Basking in the unfamiliar sensation of being completely helpless and desperately longing for climax, Harry thought that at least for the moment, he just might agree.

“And _this_ is where you will stay.” Draco hissed. 

Draco reached a hand under Harry’s chest to twist the left nipple clamp as he spurted into his captive, and the over stimulation from both brought forth Harry’s own shattering climax.

Soon staring up at an unfocused ceiling, Harry’s jaw hung as he panted. He was only dimly aware of Draco slowly redressing off to the side of the bed. Immersed in post-coital bliss, he tried to recall the moment that Draco had actually _left_ the bed.

Harry’s lungs, nipples and arse burned with the ferociousness of the fucking he had just received. The fog in his mind sluggishly clearing, he turned his head to observe the unexpected activity.

“Why are you getting dressed?” 

Draco straightened his robes. “That’s no concern of yours.” 

“Come back to bed.” 

“No. Since you were so anxious to experience the art of submission from this perspective, I think that this would be the perfect opportunity to show you just what that commitment means while I am the dominant party.” 

“What commitment?” 

“Harry, as I have spent a great deal of time over the last few weeks pandering to your every little dominatrix urge, I feel that you should truly experience mine.” 

“What do you mean?”

Draco closed in for what Harry expected would be a kiss, but instead a firm hand seized his upper arm and savagely hauled him up and off the bed. He tried to move the best he could in his still restrained state, swinging his legs hastily down to the floor for balance as he was tugged over the edge, but he landed heavily on his side onto the hard wooden floor. Harry grunted and swore with the impact, but Draco ignored any protests as he dragged him forcibly across the abrasive wood to the middle of the room and yanked him back up onto his knees. 

Wincing with pain and astonishment, Harry snapped, “ _Draco_ \- that _hurt_!” 

The look directed down at him was derisive at best. “Was that not the general purpose of this evening?”

“Sort of…” Harry admitted, gasping. “But _that_ was a bit much!”

“I will decide what is appropriate.”

Draco turned away and started towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll return when I feel that your rank has been successfully imprinted. You will _not_ move from this position.”

Harry watched as Draco exited the room, leaving him naked and kneeling, hands and ankles still bound. He gaped as the bedroom door quietly latched shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry ached from his impact onto the hard, wooden floorboards. Feeling sure that Draco was merely toying with him and would come back to release him soon, he remained in position, anxious to prove that he had learned whatever lesson was being imparted. 

After staring at the closed door in disbelief for what seemed too long, he finally admitted to himself that his compliance was not going to speed the return. As Harry grew increasingly tired of waiting for his freedom to be granted and his shock and mortification began to fade to a simmering anger, it suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t _need_ to wait. 

He closed his eyes as he immersed himself in the shimmer of his magic. Clearing his mind of enough external pain and internal turmoil took too many minutes, but quiet clinks finally indicated success before the bonds fell from his body to clatter onto the wooden floor.

Plucking the handcuffs from where they lay, Harry stared at the steel implements which had previously stirred such pleasure, wondering if all pleasant associations had been forever shattered. Hurling them viciously at the far wall, he stood on shaking legs, intent on finding his tormentor and demanding answers, but an unsteady search of the building soon determined that Draco was no longer there. Not feeling in any shape to conduct a more extensive search mission, Harry shuffled towards the bathroom to inspect the damage. 

Standing in the hot spray of the shower, he debated how events had taken such a hideous turn. Instead of basking in the glory of another success or snuggling in the afterglow of sex, he was alone and taking stock of his injuries. The skin on his wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw from the metal restraints and a collection of bruises were blossoming down his right side from the impact with the floor. And oh, god his _nipples_. Wincing with the contact of the water on the wounds, Harry seethed, reluctant to use a healing charm, preferring instead to tend the rage that the physical pain stirred within him. 

But as the water soothed, a spark of doubt began to stir. Draco had left him there, had seemed so angry and _cold_ , that Harry began to wonder exactly why he had provoked such a severe reaction. Draco hadn’t looked at him with such cool detachment since their relationship had begun. There had been many arguments, mostly over petty insignificant incidents, but that uncaring glare had not swept over him for a long time. Harry thought back over the last few weeks and wondered how it had gone so wrong so abruptly. Although he tried to reassure himself that Draco had a strong enough resolve and sense of personal worth not to pander to fantasies without receiving any real pleasure from them, he was becoming increasingly worried that he had been so wrapped up in his own enjoyment that he had somehow missed obvious signs of objection.

After his shower, securely re-clothed, Harry paced the floor of his living room, muttering obscenities under his breath as he delicately caressed his wrists, unsure anymore whether his fury was directed at Draco or himself. He had just made the decision to search out the blond and demand some answers when the unmistakable whoosh of his floo swept through the room. 

Stopping dead in his tracks, Harry's strange mix of fear and insecurity was almost overwhelming as Draco’s form appeared from the ornate fireplace. But instead of displaying any acknowledgement of another presence, Draco strolled past and placed his briefcase onto the floor by a nearby chair, regally sinking into the upholstery as if he had never left. 

The casualness of Draco’s entrance and the indignity of being blatantly ignored tilted Harry’s whirling emotions straight back to anger. 

Determined to confront the situation, Harry shouted, “Did you think that was fucking _funny_?” 

That dreaded cold stare leisurely rose to meet him. “I see that you didn’t heed my instruction. And be very careful how you speak to me, Potter.” 

All insecurity or doubt temporarily abandoned, Harry heavily stomped over to where Draco calmly sat and towered over him. “I’ll speak to you however I want! I can’t believe that you fucking _left_ me there!” 

Indicating a lack of concern in regard to the ranting, Draco settled back to relax into the cushiony softness of the upholstery, casually observing a spot in front of him that wasn’t Harry. 

“What did you expect? Did you believe that I would indulge in yet another of your depraved sexual fantasies and then simply bow back down into docility once you grew tired of that scenario? Well, I think you made a mistake if you thought that anything would return to the way it was.” Draco smoothed down his robes nonchalantly as he spoke, “And if it reassures you, I did derive a lot of satisfaction from today’s proceedings.”

The indifference in his boyfriend’s tone was increasing Harry’s earlier misgivings, but he was far too immersed in his fury to let go of it willingly. “Well, you know what _I_ think? I’m not gonna let you treat me like _shit_ again. Get out of my house.” Not liking the finality that the order suggested, Harry added, “I'll talk to you when I've calmed down.”

Draco ignored it, anyway. “You didn’t seem to mind being treated badly when the prospect of an orgasm was in sight.” 

“That… was different.” 

The smoothing ceased. “In what way?” 

“That was for fun! What you did went beyond that. I’m not going to be your bloody bitch, Malfoy.” 

“But it was perfectly acceptable to make me yours?” 

Bewildered that Draco considered himself so lowly in the partnership which they had cultivated, Harry faltered, “That’s… not what you are.” 

“Then what am I?” Draco enquired as he leant forward in his seat. Grey eyes snapped up, suddenly attentive. 

“You were… you are…” Harry trailed, searching for a way to release the unexpressed sentiment that had grown within him over the course of their liaison. The important part that Draco had quickly grown to play in Harry’s life and the gaping chasm which he was sure would split through it if that presence was removed.

Draco’s head tilted to the side with scarcely camouflaged mocking. “If you created the lie more quickly, it might appear more convincing.” 

“I’m not _trying_ to lie! I… just refuse to let that happen again.”

“But you are such an obedient little bitch, Potter.” Draco gripped the arms of the chair and raised himself upwards. As Harry was standing so close, he was forced to lean back to accommodate the presence but refused to move away to allow any comfort. 

“Don’t call me a fucking bitch! This wasn’t some casual shag!” Harry barked into the face so close. 

“I never thought it was. But since it’s clear that my message has not had any impact, I think you’re right. This charade of a relationship is clearly over, and I should leave.” Draco swept him aside as if he were nothing more than an irritating obstacle and stepped confidently past into open space.

Harry stumbled both with stance and words as the distance increased between them. “Why did you even come back here if you think it’s over? What point will you have made if you just leave now? Maybe if you told me what I’m supposed to have learnt, I’d be able to fix this.” 

“I shouldn’t have to. And anyway, didn’t you make a request for me to vacate the premises just a short while ago? So, you should be pleased that I’m heeding your desires when you so patently dismissed mine.” 

“I… didn’t dismiss anything… I don’t know what to do.” Harry muttered to himself.

“There’s nothing to do. My actions were intended to illustrate an important point but have obviously been unsuccessful.” 

“ _What_ point? It was supposed to be fun, but instead all you did was betray my trust, not _illustrate_ anything! Or can’t you see the difference?” 

Draco had stooped to retrieve his briefcase but stopped short. “No, I don’t see any distinction. Because it wasn’t different for _me_. But you never cared about that.” 

“You had a choice!” 

Harry could almost hear the click of Draco’s spine as he straightened. “And when was _that_? Was that before you turned me into your permanent submissive or before you deemed to allow me to regain some temporary travesty of control?” 

“I didn’t turn you into anything! You enjoyed it,” Harry added as a whisper. 

“You don’t sound overly confident of that fact.” 

Needing to create a barrier against the truth, Harry crossed his arms defensively, ignoring the pain which shot down his side with the sudden movement. “Well, _didn’t_ you?” 

“Whether or not I gained any pleasure from your games is not what's in question. The issue is that you didn’t stop to _consider_ whether or not I enjoyed them. You presumed that I did and therefore continued on regardless.” 

Twisting sharply away from the accusation, Harry winced. With his back to Draco, he bent, hissing out breaths and holding his side to calm himself and ease the sudden pain. But an insistent, surprisingly gentle touch prised his clamped grip away.

“Let me see,” Draco sighed. “Take off your shirt.” 

Draco didn’t wait for any protest or reply, and cotton was glided from Harry’s hunched shoulders. Once free from the confines of the material, Harry lifted an aching arm to expose his right side. Coming round to inspect the injuries from the front, Draco’s lower lip hung loosely.

Not quite making contact, Draco's hand skimmed hesitantly down the smattering of bruises. “Why didn’t you heal these?”

“I didn’t want to… not yet.” 

“Why?” 

“I didn’t… want to let go, I suppose.”

“Of what?”

“My anger, my connection to you.” 

A comforting touch came to rest on Harry’s unmarred other hip, just above the slim waistband of Harry's jeans. “Isn’t it telling that the only connection you feel with me is anger?” 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, that’s what it sounded like. Are they really painful?” 

“Yes… but I suppose it’s deserved, after everything I made you do.” Harry’s own caress found his temples, massaging away a mounting throb. “But… I didn’t mean to…” 

“Didn’t mean to what?” 

“I didn’t mean to make you miserable.” 

Harry stood transfixed as his hand was plucked away from his creased brow. “What makes you think I am, or have been, miserable?” 

“You must’ve been, to be this upset over what I made you do.”

“I wasn’t upset, not at first anyway and you didn’t _make_ me do anything. I participated quite willingly in your little fantasies.” Draco’s thumb traced the line which the cuffs had worn into Harry’s skin. “Will you let me heal them?” 

A tiny nod from Harry, a softy spoken enchantment, and all physical pain melted away. Harry proceeded with caution, anxious not to destroy this hint of renewed tenderness. “Then… what’s all this been about?”

Harry’s wrist was not returned to him. “I didn’t appreciate you turning me into a laughingstock in front of my colleagues. But more importantly, I don’t care for the way you appear to consider yourself above me.”

“I… don’t.” 

A scrutinizing stare examined Harry’s skin for further blemishes, while a soft hand stroked the curve of his hip. “Yes, you do. You made all the decisions and I allowed you to.” 

“Then why did you even go along with it?”

Draco’s gaze dropped away, and he emanated unusual apprehension.

“Draco?” 

“It’s… not important.” 

Irritation caused Harry’s next query to come out harsher than he had intended. “Then why go through this, if you're not going to actually _tell_ me? Why did you participate when you didn’t want to?” Harry breathed in an effort to lower his voice. “That’s not like you.”

“It was…” Harry’s wrist was released from Draco’s grasp, “the only way you wanted me.” 

The pain of the misunderstanding stabbed like a knife.

“That’s not true! I was only trying to make things more exciting. I would _never_ have continued if I’d realised that you weren’t enjoying it.” 

“But… I thought it was _already_ exciting.” Draco again appeared to be looking anywhere other than at Harry. “Just being with you. And finally letting someone do that to…” 

Harry watched in confusion as Draco's voice trailed off. Draco stared downwards and dawning comprehension shifted into place.

“Draco…” he tried to think how to phrase the question without causing Draco to retreat, “had you… bottomed before me?” 

Uncharacteristic nervousness seeped from Draco.

The reply was so softly murmured that Harry almost missed it. “No.” 

“Never?” 

Draco’s silence was ample confirmation.

Searching for appropriate words through his stunned state, Harry blurted, “Why didn’t you tell me? I know you said that it wasn’t your usual preference, but I didn't realise that you hadn’t done it before.” 

“It wasn’t a big deal. I just hadn’t found anyone else that I trusted enough to let them.” 

“And you thought that wasn’t _important_? 

Draco didn’t reply or raise his head. Unsure how to console such an unconfident Draco, but desperate to somehow make amends for tarnishing what should have been a meaningful event, Harry reached out for a hand he didn’t think would be accepted. Or that he deserved.

“I’m… sorry. But I'd like to show you something. Will you let me?”

Blond tendrils swayed as Draco nodded.

Although Draco was soon once again sprawled naked on his back, he was more beautiful in his unrestrained state than Harry had considered could be possible. Harry had taken care to tenderly map every smooth dip and curve of the body laid before him with lips and tongue, and Draco was responding with more enthusiasm than Harry had ever seen. 

His patient preparations had him longing for penetration, but Harry held off, mindful of the experience that he was trying to bestow and the emotions he was trying to express with his actions. His exploring fingers probed, slowly stretching and teasing Draco to open. When his fingers were abruptly tugged from the heat, Harry’s heart thumped, sure that he had somehow made another mistake, but Draco’s dilated grey eyes revealed desire. And something else that neither of them were very good at conveying with words.

“Now…” Draco gasped.

They moaned together as Harry slipped in. Draco’s long legs locked around him tightly and as they moved together, Harry felt a sense of completion that none of his games had produced. Setting the rhythm in response to Draco’s movements beneath him, Harry gradually increased his depth and speed as hips came eagerly up to meet his thrusts and heels pulled him downwards. Muscles soon clenched around him as Draco groaned out his orgasm. Harry paused, basking in the glow radiating from his lover and had never before felt the need to kiss this man more deeply. Indulging the urge, Harry bent for a lingering taste before the need to move again overcame him. 

Harry hung his head as he thrust and was surprised when it was the soft brush of Draco’s hand against his cheek that sent him careening over the edge. 

Lying on his back in exhausted bliss, Harry regarded the man curled contentedly beside him and shuddered at the thought of what he had almost lost. 

A low voice vibrated against his chest. “Harry… I’m sorry for what I did. I should’ve just told you how I felt.”

“And I should’ve paid more attention,” Harry sighed. “So… should I lock away the props?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“But you don’t like them.” 

Draco squirmed in closer. “I didn’t say that either. What I expressed was a distaste for permanently losing control. I feel sure that there’ll still be a use for some of them, on occasion. As long as it’s for both of us.” 

“Really?” 

“Well, we have to keep it exciting, don’t we?” The chuckle in Draco’s voice spoke of new-born trust, but Harry realised that Draco had been right; what they had was already exciting.


End file.
